


Train Like We Fight

by Sonora



Series: Werewolf!verse [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Knotting, M/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 07:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10552698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonora/pseuds/Sonora
Summary: Chuck's being a mouthy brat.  This is the shit that drives Herc nuts.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [will_o_wisp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/will_o_wisp/gifts).



> will_o_wisp requested: 
> 
>  
> 
> _Some post-bite Chuck being put into his place by daddy during the war would sooooo hot._
> 
>  
> 
> Umm... Herc puts Chuck in his place? They're werewolves so they don't exactly negotiate safewords? Everybody likes it? I tried? Somehow, bits of plot showed up.

“The bloody fuck were you thinking out there?” Herc thunders now, the second they get back to their room. 

Chuck winces as the door slams shut and Max goes scrambling for the safety of his bedroom kennel. Herc would no more hurt the bulldog than he would Chuck, but at least the bulldog fucking _listens_ to him. “C’mon Dad, it was only a sim today...”

“Sim my arse! We train like we fight, remember?! You pull shit like that out there in Striker, and they’ll be peeling you off the conn-pod wall like you’re Yancy-fucking-Becket. Except maybe you won't make it to hospital!” 

And that really gets the pup cringing. “Dad...”

Things were different before. Herc can almost remember that. Back when he was human, when they were both still human. But Chuck’s been piloting for almost six months now, a wolf since he pinned on his jaeger wings, and Herc’s the Alpha of the Sydney Shatterdome and things are the way they’re supposed to be.

Except for this shit right here.

Herc’s on him in a flash, hand around his throat. He doesn’t have his claws out, but that’s a matter of sheer control. The wolf in him is screaming that it’s not right, not right that a wolf in his pack is being so goddamn _disobedient_. “It’s Alpha, Chuck. How many times do I have to tell you before you remember?”

Chuck narrows his eyes, despite the grip his dad has on his throat. “Maybe you should remember how to bring the fight to the enemy?” he growls. “You forget how to be violent, old man? Gettin’ soft in your old age?”

It’s nothing to kick those young knees out, collapse Chuck to the fucking floor. He goes down hard, grunting as he hits, and Herc doesn’t give him a second to adjust. Just yanks his head back, exposing his throat, _like he ought to be doing on his fucking own_. To show deference to his Alpha.

The pup’s just glaring at him.

Sometimes, Herc wonders what Chuck would be like - what they would be like - if Chuck was still human. Not that Chuck didn’t want the bite. Oh no, he fucking begged for it, especially once he learned he’d gotten accepted to the Academy. Wanted it from the first moment Herc shifted for him. Herc made him wait. Wait until he earned it, wait until Herc could trust himself. 

And now, now, this is how things are. 

Herc squats, twisting Chuck’s head around even harder. “You don’t trust your Alpha, do you?”

That accusation - not unfair either, given the situation - cuts right to the heart of it. Chuck slumps, as if he’s suddenly aware of what he’s just done and said. “No, Alpha, I do...”

“Are you defying me again?” Herc growls.

“No, Dad! No, I...”

Herc flicks out the claws on his right hand, and loops his hand through the collar of his pup’s flight suit. Rough as he’s being, his claws dig through the fabric, ripping it. “It angers your Alpha when you don’t listen. Makes him feel like you want out of his pack.” He jerks hard, ripping the zipper clean out from neck to crotch and tearing the pup’s undershirt to rags, admiring that nice young body, all smooth and fine. They haven’t had a combat deployment severe enough to leave circuitry scars yet, and despite his status as a wolf, Chuck hasn’t really started growing chest hair yet. Fuck, but he made a pretty pup. He lifts Chuck’s face. “Do you want to go find a different pack?”

Chuck won't meet Herc’s steady gaze (good pup, Herc wants to preen) but he shakes his head.

“You want to keep your place in your Alpha’s pack?”

A nod.

Leaving his pup on the floor, Herc smoothly glides back up and sits down in his favorite chair. “Then show him how much you want it.”

Herc talked to the Gages, of course, before he bit Chuck, took Chuck. Scott had been scared that the change would mean they’d hurt the pup, and keeping Chuck safe was always foremost in Herc’s thoughts. But sex was like breathing for wolves, a necessary, vital part of their existence. Even with family, even if breeding family was strictly forbidden and females were usually mated off to different packs early, sometimes while they were still in school, just to avoid the possibility. 

Trevin told him he needn’t have bothered to even ask; a born wolf would have gone his whole life waiting for that magical moment his Alpha decided he was of age. 

Herc loves his pup. Of course he does. As a father and a co-pilot and an Alpha. And as all those things, he knows his pup only misbehaves when he doesn’t know what else to do. When his instincts overcome his better sense. When he needs to be made to behave.

What kind of Alpha - or daddy - would he be if he ignored his pup’s needs?

He lets his eyes shine red as Chuck crawls over on all fours, eyes downcast but reeking of need, hobbled by the ruins of his uniform. Herc sighs as his pup settles between his legs, rubbing his cheek on his thigh. “Ahh pup,” Herc sighs, running a hand through all that soft red hair. “You’re a bitch, you know that?”

“Yes, Alpha,” Chuck breathes, mouthing at his cock through the flimsy green of the flight suit even as he slides the zipper up.

“You don’t listen to your Alpha.”

“I know.”

“It hurts your Alpha very much.”

“I know,” Chuck says, and pulls Herc’s cock out, heavy and fattening even in his hand. He rubs his smooth cheek against it. “I don’t wanna hurt him.”

“So why do you keep doing it?”

“I don’t know, Alpha,” he breathes and, with one last breath, draws Herc fully into his mouth.

Purposely, Herc doesn’t give him any direction for a while. Chuck knows at this point what he likes, and if the pup can’t please him, that’s the pup’s problem. His desire to bite, claim, mate, knot, is warring with his instincts as a father to protect his progeny and, well, where Chuck’s concerned, everything gets tangled up.

He doesn’t mind though. 

It’s his job how to teach Chuck how to be good, and judging from the way he’s sucking on his daddy’s cock right now - tongue working extra hard against the sensitive slit one moment, running down the underside and pressing up the next, mouth diving down, choking himself - his pup does very much want to be good.

And thank fuck. The blatant disobedience is fucking _maddening_.

Herc only lets him go as long as it takes to get his cock nice and fat and very slick, and then yanks him up, none too gently, right into his lap. Chuck is flushed, lips swollen, body trembling a bit. He’s aroused and confused and scared, which shouldn’t be a turn-on but very much is. Running his claws up the backs of Chuck’s still-clothed thighs and arse, he pulls the pup forward, biting an ear.

“I don’t like it when my pup challenges me,” he growls, low and dangerous, grinding his naked erection into Chuck’s, leaking wetness all over Chuck’s briefs. He digs his claws in, down to the skin. “Such a mouthy bitch, thinking he knows better than his Alpha.”

“No, ah!” Chuck gasps, arching forward into Herc’s chest from the stimulation, the pain and the pleasure of it. He’s writhing now, properly squirming, but he’s scrambling for Herc’s shoulders, pressing closer, instead of trying to escape. “No, I...”

Herc scrapes his teeth - blunt human teeth, for now - across the pulse of his son’s neck. Gives him a moment to scent the pup. Check to see if he’s okay. “Doesn’t care if he hurts his Alpha.”

“No! I don’t...”

But Herc doesn’t let him finish that sentence, because he sinks his teeth in hard and rips again, shredding what’s left of Chuck’s clothing, leaving thin red lines across his arse. Nothing deep, but enough to sting and ooze. The scent of blood and pre-come fills the air, and the moan Chuck lets out isn’t human.

He strokes Chuck’s face, arm wrapped around his side to hold him close, finger teasing at his hole. He’s a wolf, so he doesn’t need much prep, and besides, he’s always an eager little thing for some daddy dick. “Doesn’t love his Alpha like a good wolf should.”

Chuck presses back, arousal spiking and arse begging to be filled, one young hand wrapping around the base of Herc’s cock. “I love my Alpha,” he whines. 

“Really? He’s not sure.”

He looks down, eyes wet, and nods. “I love my Alpha,” he whispers and, before Herc can say anything else, lifts up and slides himself down, taking his daddy into himself. 

Herc can’t be mad with him - can’t even pretend to be mad - as he’s enveloped by the tight, grasping heat. Fucking perfect, his pup, always perfect. He takes a firm grip on Chuck’s lean thighs, letting Chuck pound all his guilt out, fucking himself on his daddy’s cock, his own drooling all over Herc’s belly as it bounces up and down and up and down. Herc wants to laugh as the familiar pressure builds in him, except it comes out as a growl, and then there it is, his knot exploding deep inside Chuck, locking them together.

Chuck collapses on him, and it’s only when Herc wraps his arms around his pup’s sweaty, fucked-out shoulders that he realizes the pup already came, thick ropes of cum that are already smeared between them. Panting, Chuck is alternating between pressing kisses to Herc’s shoulders and licking the sweat away, rubbing his face against him. Teenager that he is, this is about the only time Chuck actually lets Herc cuddle him.

The contact and the closeness settles the wolf in him, that genuine anger over being challenged so blatantly by his own flesh and blood ebbing away now. Herc pets Chuck’s hair, kisses his face and, running a hand down his thigh, whispers, “hold onto me, okay?”

Chuck nods, and wraps his hands around Herc’s neck. With his enhanced strength, it’s nothing to lift his son and himself out of the chair, walking them the few awkward steps over to their bed. It’s not the best in the world, but Chuck’s loaded it high with blankets and pillows and there’s always a way to get comfortable. 

Herc lays Chuck down first and moves in over him, their bodies still connected, then rolls them over on their sides. It’s easier for him to check his pup over this way, touch and feel and kiss. Chuck, for his part, kisses back; lazy, slow, sweet kisses that still taste like guilt, but doesn’t say anything.

He’s dozing by the time Herc’s knot finally goes down enough for him to slip out.

Wetting a washcloth in the bathroom, his own uniform banished to the hamper, Herc thinks back to the events in the simulator. Chuck wasn’t necessarily wrong, insofar as his strategy may have worked okay, but he’s pushed too hard and then snarled at him and very nearly snapped the Drift with his anger. And perhaps Herc could have taken more of that input... it’s hard sometimes, resolving all the things he is. The wolf’s hierarchical instincts with the hard reality that Chuck is his co-pilot, not a subordinate, and the overarching emotion of wanting to see his son come back alive, to know that his son is trained up right.

He’s not sure what to say though, so he doesn’t say anything. If he was human, perhaps he would apologize for his part in things, but an Alpha can never really apologize without showing unforgivable weakness. And being Alpha here is one way he guarantees his son’s safety; nobody can touch Chuck except with his express permission, permission he will never give. (He'd fought hard for it, issued his challenge only months after receiving the bite, something Trevin and Bruce told him was fucking suicidal, but he won and Horizon Brave got moved to Hong Kong, her right-hand pilot thoroughly humiliated over the whole thing.) 

Herc downs half a Gatorade from their little minifridge, and grabs a second for Chuck, pondering.

No, apologizes are for humans. They’re under different rules now. Rules that say he can take. Rules that say Chuck can give. 

But it's always, always his job to take care of his pack.

So instead of stupid words he was never good with anyway, Herc focuses on cleaning his pup up, wiping sweat and seed away from his skin. Some of the claw scratches from earlier still haven’t closed up, so the wash cloth is followed by his tongue, soothing the broken skin, healing it anew.

Max, reassured that his pack has resolved the little squabble, hops up the bed's doggy ladder to lay down at Chuck’s feet. He woofs at Herc, who smiles and gives his smallest pack member some scritches around those wrinkles. 

Chuck wakes up at the sound, blinking sleepy eyes at him as Herc moves up to wrap around him once again. “Dad?”

“Shh, my pup,” Herc murmurs, spooning behind him and pulling the covers up around them both. “Doing alright? Need anything?”

Shaking his head, Chuck reaches for the Gatorade, taking a deep swig and recapping it. He sounds utterly fucked out, but far from distressed. “I wasn’t trying to challenge you.”

“But you did.”

“I don’t want to,” he says earnestly, turning around in Herc’s arms. “I don’t want to be Alpha. I don’t want anybody else to be my Alpha.”

“Not yet,” Herc murmurs, and kisses him, stroking his side, counting his ribs. “Some day, when you’re full grown and have a few kills under your belt, I want you ready to challenge for my beta position.” Right now, it’s one of Echo Saber’s pilots, because he’s earned the right, but Herc really does want Chuck there. His left hand, in all things. “Gotta learn how to follow before you can lead.”

“I know, Dad,” Chuck says, and nuzzles the underside of Herc’s jaw in apology. “I like your lessons.”

“My perfect little pup,” Herc says proudly. 

His boy makes such a good wolf. Yeah. He doesn’t even want to think about where they’d be if they weren’t here.


End file.
